


on the offchance

by weatheredlaw



Series: wait, don't tell me [4]
Category: Bob's Burgers (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Future Fic, Kid Fic, Mild Language, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-07 14:57:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4267605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weatheredlaw/pseuds/weatheredlaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The sixth Belcher is negotiated into existence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the stick is a lie

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my gosh I had this idea today and I just had to get it out there. I always think this show is gonna pull a fast one on me and give us another Belcher, but this far along into it all I highly doubt that. Still, I wanted to imagine older Belcher kids dealing with mama and papa Linda and Bob, really trying to flex their parenting muscles in an old way again. I hope you like the name? I really hope you like it in general.

At first, Linda thinks it must be a mistake. 

She huffs at the little stick like she huffs at her children and her husband, shakes it twice, and then chucks it into the garbage. _Silly_ , she thinks, and just keeps going. This is a mistake -- she's stressed because Tina is traveling in Scotland, because they're busier and busier, because they can finally afford to get new floors over the holiday weekend and it'll take hours of men they don't know moving in their space, ripping things out while she pretends she can't hear. Linda hates saws. 

She's stressed because that's just her life -- one tiny anxiety after another, sprinkled between the good bits. And that kind of stuff makes your insides get weird and your lady parts grind at a different speed than usual. She'll wait it out because it's happened before, but not for a long time.

Her mother said it happened when she started going through menopause, and Linda thinks there's a _Golden Girls_ episode about that too -- but she's not old enough for that yet, and her kids aren't even in college. She looks at herself in the mirror, pushes at the crow's feet starting their permanent press around her eyes, and wonders how many days she should give it. _Five_ , she thinks. If her friend is still MIA in five days, she'll call her gyno and sort things out. 

You can't trust little sticks. That's how they make their money.

 

 

 

"Do you like the word congratulations?"

"Maybe." Linda shifts on the noisy paper of the exam table. "It's not..."

"It is." Dr. Facione hands over her paperwork with a sort of whimsical flourish, the dozen bangles on her wrist sliding across one another. She puts her hands on her hips and smiles. "You're five weeks in."

"That's..."

"We'll do a sonogram at seven weeks, if you want it." Her doctor sobers up a little bit, pulling the little footstool across the room. It needs to be oiled, Linda thinks. It makes a horrible sound. "You're not a kid anymore, Mrs. Belcher. And you know that, I understand. I'm not saying you won't have a completely healthy pregnancy and a completely healthy baby, but your family is on their way to being grown. You don't _have_ to do this."

Linda feels something prick at the bend of her heart, right there in the largest part, like it's _burning._ She swallows. "Okay."

"I have some information I can give you. It covers a lot of stuff. If you decide to go through with it, you'll be doing things a little differently than the last three. If you decide it's not for you, then you'll have some options." She takes a folder, filled to the brim with black and white printouts, all stapled and labeled and ready for her to take home. "This is yours. Give it some time. Like I said. First sonogram at seven weeks." Dr. Facione gets up and puts a steady hand on Linda's shoulder. "It's gonna be just fine. I promise."

 

 

 

Linda lets it settle for a couple of days. Bob thinks she seems a little down, and he does the goofy things he always does to cheer her up. Late night breakfast snacks in bed, reading Craig's list ads for her in weird voices, kissing the bend of her knee while they watch Anthony Bourdain in he living room. She absently cards her fingers through his hair while Anthony floats down the river in the Congo. Bob is almost asleep in her lap, so she takes the remote and turns off the TV, leaning down to kiss his temple. "Bobby. I gotta tell you something."

He sits up, blinking through his exhaustion. It's only nine, and the kids are in the back of the apartment, pretending to do homework. They won't come out, and they won't listen, so it's okay to whisper her secret to him, here, in their little space. Bob stifles a yawn and nods.

"I'm pregnant."

God if she could _keep_ that look forever. The way his face twists into something that knows what she said, but didn't quite _hear_ everything. He leans closer, like it'll help, and she says it again. "I'm _pregnant_ , Bob."

"Holy _shit._ "

"Yeah."

"No, Lin. _Holy shit._ I thought we were on top of this."

"We have been." She leans back and massages her temples. "I told you to get that vasectomy."

" _No one_ is coming anywhere near my testicles, Lin, I told you this." He scowls. "We're always safe."

"Sometimes we get lazy," she admits. After so long, she thinks they'd both just kind of figured it couldn't happen anymore. But it can and it did and here they are. She pokes his shoulder. "You still got it in you, mister man."

"That's, uh. Not comforting. Like, at all."

Linda laughs and leans against him. "What're we gonna do?"

"Do you think Louise would move into Gene's room until Tina leaves?"

She sits up straight. "What?"

"The closet space would make a good nursery. Or we could turn part of our room into one. God, we haven't needed a nursery in like nine years. I mean, Tina's definitely going away to school. She's got the bug, or whatever--"

" _Bob._ " Linda takes his hands in hers and looks right at him. "We don't _have_ to have this baby."

He blinks, processes, and says quietly, "Oh."

"We can. But we don't _have_ to."

He nods. "No, right. It's...something to think about." He raises his eyebrows. "What do _you_ want to do?"

"I--" 

God, she doesn't _know._ She has no freaking clue about what she wants right now. She knows she loves her family, that growing it by one would mean big and important things. She knows that she loves her husband, the man whose first thought was to immediately transform their house, like they were just going to grow by one and that would be it, end of discussion. 

The idea that Bob was so quick to shuffle their lives around, so eager to accommodate -- it makes her want to take the leap.


	2. sonosham

At the seven week sonogram, Bob cries. Linda expected it to happen, but she thought it might be later, after it all, maybe on the drive home. But right there in the room with the ultrasound tech and Linda's hand tight in his -- he totally loses it. 

"Do you hear that?" The tech is a sweet girl who points at the screen with delicate fingers. Linda likes her manicure. "You hear the heartbeat?"

Linda remembers all three of her seven week sonograms. The moment when she hear Tina's little heart had sent her into a sort of fit -- all her reading and asking questions couldn't prepare her for the revelation that tiny life was blooming inside of her. _Her_. She and her husband had made that little thing. And every time it felt the same. 

It feels that way now, too. Feels like coming home all over again. The realization that she and Bob could do it again. 

They tell her the due date is in August, and give her the sonogram printout. It's different than the others, but it's been a while. Bob cries on the way home, too, and Linda cries with him. They've been planning on telling the kids in a special way, something nice and grand and soft, so they'll take it well enough -- but when they get home, everyone's in the living room watching TV and Bob and Linda are crying and Gene says, "Who died?" and Linda can't help it, it just spills right out of her mouth -- 

"We're having a _baby._ " 

The noise in the room dies. Someone has turned off the TV, and they're all staring at one another.

Linda expects Louise to say something first, but she's quiet. She's perfectly quiet and completely still until she gets up, marches to her room, and slams the door.

Gene clears his throat. "Uh, yeah. What she said."

"Aren't you guys excited?" Bob's voice is shrill and panicked. He hates upsetting Louise, and Linda can tell he's itching to follow her, wanting to comfort. 

"Is this because Tina's gone?" Gene asks. "She'll be _back_ , geez." He tries to laugh, but it comes out strained, and his face is a weird color. "Oh man, it's because she's gonna go away to school, isn't it? It'll be so _weird_ with just the two of us." He gasps and stands up, point at them. "You're mad at me, aren't you? Oh my God, I knew it, I _knew it_ \--"

"Gene, honey." Linda pulls him toward her and laughs. "No one is mad at you. We love you exactly the way you are. We're not replacing _anybody_. This was just...a happy accident."

"So you didn't...do it on purpose."

"No."

"So you're okay with everything."

"Yes."

Gene sighs, his expression settling into something significantly more functional. "Okay. You better go sort out Louise then. She can get _pretty_ dramatic, if you get what I mean."

Bob sighs. "Yeah, I'll go--"

"No." Linda straightens up. "I'll go do it." She walks to Louise's little closet and taps lightly on the door. "Louise, honey. Can I--"

"Go _away._ "

"Sweetie, come on. Let mommy--"

"Not now. Just...later, mom. Okay?"

"Louise--"

" _I said later!_ " 

Linda pulls back from the door, feeling her stomach turn a little. It's probably just nausea, but it doesn't help when she can hear her daughter's heart breaking from the other side of an unlocked door. 

 

 

 

It takes weeks for Louise to get back into some semblance of a good mood. Linda decides one day she's had enough, and one morning she coerces Louise into the car to run some errands.

"We don't need another seminar, mom."

"Nah, we're done with those messes."

Louise sighs. "So what's the big deal, Cujo?"

"That isn't nice."

"You've been borderline rabid lately."

Linda huffs. "Being pregnant does that to you, missy. You'll know some day."

"Uh, doubtful. I'm never getting pregnant, it's disgusting. You grow like this _parasite_ in your stomach and the it just grows up into something bigger and grosser." Louise throws her hands up. "Look at Gene!"

"Very good point, honey." Linda pulls into her OB GYN's office, and Louise balks. "Yeah, I know. I lied about the store."

"This is the _opposite_ of the store, mother." Louise's voice is panicked, now, and Linda wonders if Bob was right. That maybe Louise would have to meet the actual baby before she liked the idea. Linda doesn't need the ultrasound, it's a little early, but she wants Louise to see. And she isn't leaving just because Louise has decided to be cranky as hell about it all. Tough friggin' bananas. "This is _sick_ and _wrong_ \--"

"Stay in the car then," Linda says, tossing the keys into Louise's lap. "Do what you want, I don't care. But I have an appointment I thought you might wanna meet this kid before you started being mean to them. Maybe you could get to know them first. Tina wasn't super excited about you, either, you know. Now look at her." She'd also been over the moon about the idea of the baby, and demanded a picture of the sonogram be emailed to her ASAP. Gene had been put in charge of that, so Linda doubts it's happened. 

Louise scowls. "It's cold out here."

"Leave the car running."

"I hate that."

"Well, pick the thing you hate less and do it, because I'm movin', little lady." Linda gets out of the car and pulls her coat around her. 

She hears the passenger door squeak open and slam shut, and decides to count it as a victory. 

 

 

 

When Louise sees the sonogram, she pretends she isn't crying.


	3. hello my name is

Dr. Facione and the ultrasound tech know the gender of their baby, but Linda and Bob, for the first time actually, don't want to know. They'd asked for all three of their kids, but for some reason, they'd come to the silent agreement that it would, like everything else with this baby has been, be a surprise. 

So the naming part gets a little difficult.

The first problem is everyone's got an opinion. Linda tells Gretchen she's thinking of something classic, like Ruth or Charlotte for a girl, and Gretchen's got a story about every nasty Ruth and Charlotte she's ever met.

Bob tells her bitterly that he talked about boy names with Teddy, who told him that he never met a Michael he really liked, but their Michael would probably be pretty okay.

"No more telling people," Linda says. "Just...we'll keep it between us."

Bob sighs. "I still don't know, though. The naming thing was always hard."

"We'll sort it all out. Just don't tell Gretchen, she'll spoil you for everyone."

"She once told me she met a Bob who was a sex addict, then asked me if I watched a lot of porn."

"Great."

 

 

 

"Hanz! It's got _zest._ "

"We're naming our genderless sibling Q," says Louise. "And I won't take arguments to the contrary."

"Kids." Bob picks up their plates to put them in the sink. "Go to your rooms."

"Ah _ha_ , yeah, uh, _speaking_ of rooms." Louise takes the plates from his hands and drops them forcefully into the sink. "You're not thinking of turning, say, a certain _closet_ into a nursery, are you?"

"Louise."

" _Tell me_ "

Bob shakes his head. "We haven't decided yet."

"How about we all think of what we'll say to Tina when we pick her up at the airport tomorrow, hmm?" Linda wraps her arms around Louise, who pretends she doesn't like turning her head to listen in on the other world her future sibling is growing in. "Maybe we'll make her a _sign_ , or have Gene sing a _song--_ "

"Oh my god I need to go do that right now!" Gene runs out of the room and Louise follows him, shouting that he _can't_ do this without her because Tina's going to be expecting something perfect. 

"The closet is too small," Bob says.

"We can't make Gene and Tina live in the same room. Tina's not a kid anymore."

"She's not an _adult_ either," Bob mutters, but agrees anyway. "You'd be happier having the bed in our room. You did that for them, too."

"Having a nursery is nice, though..."

"God. We could move one of the kids to the attic."

"Bobby."

He throws his hands up. "I don't know, Lin. We knew this was going to be a problem--"

"It is not a _problem_ ," she snaps. "This is our _kid_ , Bobby. All of our kids had a nursery."

"Yeah, because all of our kids are like, two years apart. This is _different_ , Lin."

"We can't move."

" _I know we can't move!_ "

Linda puts a finger in his face and suddenly it's a shouting match, and it isn't pleasant. Linda doesn't even realizes what she's doing until Bob stops and puts a hand on her stomach, another over his chest. "We need to stop."

"Bobby--"

"God, Linda. I'm so sorry, I'm so--"

"Hey, honey, no. No, it's okay."

"It isn't okay, we need to be _careful_ , we could--" He chokes on the word, and Linda knows if it happened, it would kill him.

It would rip them all apart.

 

 

 

Tina rushes through the crowd and throws her arms around as many of them as she can, finally getting her ear against Linda's stomach and grinning. "Hey, number six," she says quietly. She sleeps on the way home, and Bob has to carry her to bed. 

"Dad." Louise tugs on his shirt as he closes the door to Tina's room. Linda adjusts a family picture in the hall and pretends she can't hear. "If you want, you can have the closet. Gene and Tina can fight to the death over who gets the honor of living with me."

"It doesn't have to be that way."

Louise shrugs. "I'm just saying."


	4. meet cute

" _If you ever come near me again without a condom I'm gonna rip your face off and feed it to King Trashmouth I swear to God Bob --_ Linda cannot stop the litany of threats that come from her mouth. Tina and Louise had been easy, Gene had been rough.

But this? This is something completely different.

This feels like...no. There is nothing Linda can think of that this feels like, except for the other births she's had. This is like Gene on steroids, and she's suddenly missing her kids so much she wants to cry. Bob grips her hand tight, takes her anger like a pro, just the way he's done every time before. She got angry the other times, too, and she's angry now, she's angry and she's waiting and she's been told a hundred times that everything is okay, everything is fine, everything is going to be normal, it's -- 

"Here. Here she _is._ "

The earth shattering first breaths of her _daughter_ rush through the fog and Linda reaches and reaches and it feels like an eternity before she can hold her, but here she is, right _here_ , just waiting to be adored.

" _Lin._ "

"I know. Bobby, I know."

And it's like it was, but it's different. It's so different from the others. Same in the overwhelming love, like the crest of a wave about to tumble over their heads. It's a flood, not at all elegant in its arrival into her heart. It crashes and invades and fills the spaces that have been barren before this, because some things always clear out over time. 

"Holy _shit_ , mom." Louise stares at the strange, squirming little thing, her nose wrinkled. "She's kinda ugly."

"She's your sister."

Louise sighs. "Yeah, that explains it."

On the other side of the bed, Tina is crying too hard to sass back, and Bob has to hold her for a long time.

Gene finally says, "This is the best day ever, isn't it?"

"Yeah." Bob pulls him into a hug, too, and laughs. "It really is."

 

 

 

They call her Penny. Penny after no one. Penny because it's sweet on the tongue. Penny because, before her, they counted every single one of them. And now they have one to keep forever. Belcher number six comes home to Louise's fully renovated closet-nursery, and sleeps soundly through the night. 

Never again, they all decide. But totally worth it, is the collective thought, when she's passed from arm to arm.

**Author's Note:**

> I chose Penny for a couple reasons. One, the throwback to the times when the Belchers really had to scrape to get by. And two, for the sort of longer vowel sound. The emphasis on the _ee_ in Tina, Gene, Louise, etc.. And also I think it's a great name.


End file.
